Two faces lit by candlelight speaking over food and drink, and drink, and drink, and drink’s insight.
I’m the self I want to be, a city that’s not home, no other squirming around in me.
Feel myself open up wide, beautiful, you sit across. Out spills that story: I’m broken In tale of loss of self I hide. (“You’ve been here before.”) Getting drunker, edges blur, look up, black sky:
“You are one mind creating night. Across from you is everyone, and of course you are going to die, and this will fade, but that’s alright. There’s no light but you will see:---”
---Smell of salt in air, of sea, wakes me from my solipsistic, narcissistic reverie. Clinging to things I can't express, I suggest we leave. As they fade we walk up the street.
We take a shower to cool off, warm steam of bodies rises up. Away it floats, a person cloud right through the window.
The smell of soap and hair rising above the city, meshing with the dark air: all the other human clouds, unanswered prayers.
“Alive in your memory, living in the air when you die is it still there?”Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
